


chasing rollercoasters

by bipolaryangxiaolong (rosesandcinnamon)



Series: wings of wax [3]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/F, New Year's Eve, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-05 21:23:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12802659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosesandcinnamon/pseuds/bipolaryangxiaolong
Summary: Her lilac eyes are open and honest and genuine and oh God, Blake promised herself this would never happen again but it seems as if it’s too late now.





	chasing rollercoasters

**Author's Note:**

> This is a really dumb self-indulgent fic, but it is important to the series. I'm kind of disappointed in it, but I wanted to get it out. I hope you enjoy anyway. Also, chronologically, this is after a lot of important things I haven't written yet! It's after heaven in hiding but before everything else.   
> My RWBY [blog](https://bipolaryangxiaolong.tumblr.com/) has a new url, the most canon of all, of course. Do be careful on it, as I get to watch the episodes when they come out and I suck at tagging spoilers. I changed my ao3 pseud to match it, so don't worry, it's still me!  
> I hope you guys enjoy, and whatever holiday you do or do not celebrate, I hope it's wonderful for you.

If Blake is to be truthful, eating in a classroom alone at lunch like she had done for so long was getting lonely. Sitting with Yang’s friends is much more entertaining. They’re loud and overwhelming and ridiculous but it’s all in the name of fun and friendship. Plus, Yang is there. That’s enough of a reason in itself. 

It’s the day before winter break when at lunch, Nora stands on a chair. It takes a moment for everyone to quiet down enough for her to speak. Her excitement is infectious.

“I hope none of you had plans for New Year’s Eve, because you do now! Ren?” Ren, with the slightest hint of a smile, reaches into Nora’s bag to find little invitations. He passes the stack around the table. When Yang turns to Blake to hand them to her, their fingers brush and their eyes meet. Blake hates herself for the blush on her cheeks yet she can’t seem to look away from Yang, until someone next to her clears her throat.

“Excuse me, some of us are waiting on you,” Weiss says, with no true offense in her tone, surprisingly. Blake hurriedly takes an invitation off of the pile and gives them to her, avoiding eye contact. Weiss mutters something that sounds suspiciously like “kiss already”. 

Nora continues talking but when Yang gets up to throw some trash away and lets her hand trail across Blake’s back, she stops listening. Her warm touch is somehow always enough to scramble her brain. Yang sits back down, leaning towards her.

“Do you wanna go with me?” she asks, voice low, eyes sparkling. 

The answer is clear. “Yeah,” Blake replies. Their friends continue to talk but Blake’s world has shrunk to how painfully close Yang is. She keeps reaching across the table for something, blatantly pushing near her as she does it. Her hair smells like citrus, fresh and light. 

When it’s time to go, the two share their next class and walk together. Yang flirts with her the whole way, enjoying the way Blake blushes and tries to give as good as she’s getting.

“You’re cute,” she laughs, opening the door for Blake.

“And you’re the worst,” Blake responds. 

“You love it,” Yang says, completely confident. Blake has no reply as they sit down next to each other. 

Time flies by. Before Blake knows it, she’s getting in the car with Yang and Ruby to head home. It’s Yang’s turn for music, so the car fills with what Blake calls “garbage trash pop”. Yang sings enthusiastically off-key as Blake tries not to wince. But when Yang turns to her at a red light, reciting the lyrics to some stupid love song, reaching for her hand, Blake can’t help but smile. 

“You’re a  _ dork _ ,” she hisses, without anger, just embarrassment. Yang continues singing with one of those radiant smiles that makes the butterflies in Blake’s stomach flutter. The light turns green and Yang takes her foot off the brake, still smiling as she turns back to the road. Once they’re at Blake’s, she grabs her heavy bag. 

“Bye, guys,” she says, glancing at Ruby in the backseat as she says the same. Before she gets out, Yang reaches to touch her knee.

“Have a good break.” Her lavender eyes are soft as she looks at her. “I’ll see you later?” she asks, winking.

“Yeah,” Blake manages to say, getting out of the car. Ruby is moving to the front seat, getting out as well. She stops Blake with a hand on her arm.

“Blake…”

Blake blinks, surprised. “Yes?”

Ruby worries at her lower lip, obviously thinking about something. After a second, she squeaks out a “Nevermind!” and slips past her to get into the front. Blake shrugs and goes inside.

Her parents aren’t home yet, as usual. It’s nice to be alone, to decompress after a day surrounded by everyone. Blake walks into her room, greeted by the walls covered in handwritten quotations and poetry and words. It’s overwhelming, the jumble of color and fonts and papers, but it’s familiar. She puts her backpack down at her desk, throws herself on her bed, and sighs. It’s hard to not be absolutely exhausted by life. But they’re on Christmas break now, which is a relief. She rolls over, nestling her head into her pillow, about to close her eyes until she fixates on a quote on her wall. 

_ “Please waste your time on me” _ is written in purple on a piece of creamy white cardstock. Blake can see it from her bed. The ink it’s written in is faint in the cloudy sunlight from her window yet she knows what it says. She shoves her face into the pillowcase. 

She’ll never deserve Yang and she knows it. It’s painful. But she wants her time, wants her affection, even wants her love. It hurts. Blake makes some sort of shrieking sound that sounds vaguely demonic as she sits up to grab her phone. There’s only one person to talk to about this.

She picks a contact and listens to her phone ring.  
“Hi, Blake, it’s been _forever_ since I talked to you!”

“It sure has been a few hours,” she replies dryly.

She can hear Sun laugh before he asks “What’s up?”

“Not much,” she responds, hoping he won’t catch on too fast. “Just wanted to talk.”

He catches on. “Okay, but how many times did you tell me to shut up in math today?”

“If you were paying attention, you could have counted.”

“You wound me, Belladonna.”

They talk for a while, discussing classes and homework and friends, until Blake has almost forgotten she called for a reason. Then he asks.

“Why’d you call me, Blake?”

“So I might have a problem,” she admits quietly.

“Is it what I think it is?” 

She ignores him. “The problem is blonde and beautiful and-”

“Oh, so it’s me! Got it.” She laughs in response, the sound surprising both of them. “Jeez, I never get you to laugh. What’s up with Yang, Blake?”

She groans. Of course he knows. “I never  _ said _ it was Yang.”

“Well, you don’t sit by and make eyes at Jaune. So it’s simple.”

“Ew. That’s Pyrrha’s job.”

“You’re right. But answer my question.”

She sighs. “I like her too much.”

“That sounds like the opposite of a problem.”

“I’m scared!”

“Blake,” he says, tone gentle. “She likes you too. What’s the issue?” She’s silent. “I know you’re scared. That’s okay. But if you can’t get over your fear, you can’t have anything, good or bad.”

She runs a hand through her hair, glad they’re not having the conversation in person. “Yeah…”

“I gotta go, dude. It was good to talk to you,” he says. She can hear the smile in his voice. “I’m serious though. You gotta think about that.”

“Thanks, Sun.”

“See you!” He hangs up.

She shoves her face back into the pillow. 

* * *

 

The days before Christmas Eve pass. Blake reads, spends time with her parents, does the little homework she has. And she texts Yang. A lot. It’s mostly just “hey, what are you doing?” back and forth talk. It’s not a replacement for Yang actually being with her, far from it, but it’s good enough. Finally, they get to hang out. Blake waits around all day until she sees Yang’s car pull up; she practically flies down the stairs to open the door.

Yang comes in with a beautiful smile. “Hey,” she says, looking around to make sure Blake’s parents aren’t in sight before ducking to kiss her cheek. The two go up to her room together.

“Mom’s home but my dad isn’t,” Blake tells her, opening her door and regretfully leaving it open. Yang takes in the walls of words, scanning them for anything new. A piece of paper reading  _ Darling, how could you be so seductive by just being yourself… / as if fireflies live in the lining of your skin  _ is up higher on the wall, trying to be subtle. Yang smiles anyway. Her attention is brought back to Blake as she pulls a desk drawer out, taking a wrapped present from it. 

“Do you want to go first or should I?” Yang asks.

“Here,” Blake beckons her over to sit on her bed together. “You open yours first.” She hands the gift to Yang with a duck of her head. “It’s not the best,” she mumbles. 

Yang laughs gently, saying “I’m sure it is” before finding a taped crease and tugging the wrapping open. A journal is revealed, bright yellow with  _ If you can’t find the sunshine, be the sunshine  _ imprinted in gold on the front in a curling font. Blake sighs. 

“I couldn’t figure out what to get you, I’m sorry,” she explains, as Yang opens the journal, flipping through the pages. It’s half-diary, half-planner, with a calendar at the front and dates in the pages. “I kinda thought, like, it could be good for tracking your mood.” Her voice is small as she looks to Yang, searching for approval. “Or for school. Either one.”

“I love it, Blake.” Yang grins at her. “This is really thoughtful.”

Blake blushes, especially when Yang leans over to kiss her, a soft touch of their lips, tucking her hair behind her ear as she draws back.

“Okay, here you go,” Yang says, reaching over to grab a bag off the floor. She hands it to Blake. It’s heavy, surprisingly. She sets it down between them, reaching into and gently taking the tissue paper out. It’s gold and something at the bottom is wrapped in black. “It’s our colors,” Yang jokes, eyes bright.

Blake laughs a little, taking a wrapped square out. She knows it’s a book. Unwrapping it, she discovers it’s the new book of poetry from one of her favorite authors. Yang watches her, heart fluttering when the prettiest smile spreads across her face. 

“Oh, Yang, thank you. I love her.”

“I know you do,” she replies, voice gentle. “There’s something else too.”

Blake nods, setting the book aside. She takes out the next gift, unwrapping it carefully. It’s a candle, vanilla and lavender. When she takes the top off to smell it, she gasps. “You didn’t.”

“I did.” Yang can’t keep the happiness out of her voice. The candle has a wood wick, so it crackles as it burns. They had seen it in a store a while ago.  Blake had mentioned wanting one even though it was a little more expensive than most.  

“You are the  _ best _ , Yang,” she murmurs, putting the candle down and leaning over, tender hand on her thigh and the other cupping her face. Their lips meet, and Blake can feel her smile. Their kisses become a little more intense, Blake allowing herself to lean back against her pillows, Yang following. After a while as well as the creak of Kali’s office door opening, Blake sighs. “We should stop,” she breathes, disappointment clear in her voice.

“Okay,” Yang responds. Blake kisses her one more time before shifting, getting off the bed. She places the book on her nightstand and the candle on her desk, Yang watching her move around the room. “You’re hot,” she says with a smirk. Blake doesn’t respond verbally, only blushing and ignoring her. 

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” Blake asks.

Yang says yes, and they settle into her collection of fuzzy blankets, Blake draped onto Yang, head on her chest. “You sure like these pillows,” Yang teases, enjoying the way Blake splutters. She tries to shift away, but Yang’s arm around her prevents it. “I’m joking, Blake, it’s okay,” she murmurs, touching her cheek to Blake’s head. Blake pinches her hip, lightly, just to have some sort of comeback.

“Shut up and watch the movie.” Yang does. It’s a happy feel-good Christmas movie that Blake obviously knows and loves, because she keeps insisting Yang pay attention to certain scenes “Because they’re important” and humming happily at times. 

Yang is focusing more on the way Blake feels against her, the way she breathes and sighs and talks, the indistinguishable but pleasing smell of her hair. Her chest feels warm, and not just because of their shared heat. It’s the glowy, heart-clenching, “I’m so happy right now” feeling that she’s obsessed with. It literally feels like there’s a ball of light inside her ribcage. She loves it. 

Eventually, it’s time for her to go. Yang grabs her coat and boots and keys, as well as her new journal. “You really don’t have to walk me out, it’s too cold,” she says, eyes on Blake while she kneels to tie her laces. 

“I want to,” Blake replies. 

“You’ll freeze,” Yang sighs. 

“You’ll keep me warm.” Blake has nothing but confidence in her voice, bringing a blush to Yang’s cheeks as she stands up. Blake looks out to the hallway to make sure her mother isn’t around before leaning up to press a kiss to her cheek. Yang takes her hand in return, squeezing gently. They go downstairs, Yang trying to convince her to stay inside one last time before Blake pointedly opens the door for her. 

As soon as the door closes behind them, Blake puts her arms around Yang’s neck and kisses her. Though they start out rushed and firm, Blake defers to Yang, and they become the softest, most tender kisses. She tugs at her lower lip, touches her face, brushes her hair back. Blake feels loved without being told she is.

Love can’t keep her from getting cold. When she starts to shiver, Yang holds her tightly for a moment before letting go. “Go inside,” she says, no-nonsense tone in her voice.

“Bye, Yang, I’ll see you later,” Blake responds, kissing her one last time. 

“Bye.” Yang smiles at her before going to her car. Blake waits to make sure it starts before retreating inside with a wave.

Her mind is entirely on Yang. She stands in the entryway, feeling lost. “Don’t kiss me like that, I might… fall in love with you,” Blake whispers to herself, hands on the doorknob. She goes upstairs again, skirting by her mother’s office to go into her room, closing the door behind her. Once more, she falls into her bed, into blankets that smell like Yang.  _ I should steal a hoodie of hers _ , she thinks, smiling into a pillow. The smile fades after a moment.  _ I’m not even her girlfriend. What am I thinking?  _ she asks herself. The thought  _ I  _ **_want_ ** _ to be her girlfriend  _ comes unbidden. A chilling fear spreads into her chest and suddenly, her whole body feels frozen. 

She knows what happens when she falls in love with someone. It’s beautiful. It’s thrilling. It’s everything she could ever want or need and more. Then it will inevitably sour into something love should never be and she will have to leave or be left. That’s how it goes. Why- and how- could she ever expect anything else? She knows, she  _ knows _ she should stay as far away from Yang as she can. But, Blake reflects, she doesn’t know if she can. That night at Yang’s in August, letting go of her inhibitions and fears had felt so good. She didn’t think much. She just did. 

And with Yang, it kept happening. She had never planned to keep talking, assuming their fun at the party was a one-night thing. But Yang started talking to her at school, started texting back and forth with her, wanted to spend time together. And while she had Sun, Blake needed more friends. Once she had Yang, they kept coming. She got closer with Ruby, she became loosely friends with Weiss. Then when she sat with Yang at the lunch table, she was immediately accepted into the group.

She pulls a pillow to her chest to hide her face. Being friends with Yang was good. Kissing Yang every so often was better. Having both sounded like the best thing that could ever happen to her.

What Sun said comes up in her mind.  _ You can’t have anything, good or bad _ . He’s right, she knows, yet she feels so frightened. And, she reminds herself, she has every reason to be. Sure, Yang has never hurt her, but Adam didn’t for a long time. But Yang is nothing like Adam and Blake is different now and  _ everything _ is different now and everything is complicated and terrifying and oh God, she has to stop thinking or she’s going to work herself into an anxiety attack.

Blake chooses to sit up and reach for her latest book on the nightstand. When she looks over, she realizes the book of poetry Yang just gave her is on top of the novel she’s been reading. She smiles slightly and picks it up instead. As she always does, she flips through the beginning pages of titles and forewords before getting to the poetry. There’s a bright yellow sticky note on the title page, words written in messy curly letters.

_ I don’t really get poetry, Blake. It’s pretty and I like it, but not the way you do. But I saw this in the bookstore and what little I read reminded me of you, so I hope you enjoy it. Maybe you can tell me what you love so much about it when you’re done. _

It’s not signed with a name, just with a heart. Blake sets the book aside and puts her head in her hands. Her chest hurts.

* * *

New Year’s Eve comes around. Yang offers her a ride; Blake accepts. She puts on some soft music as she does her makeup, choosing a sparkly purple eyeshadow instead of her usual matte. She smiles at herself in the mirror, applying a light layer of sheer gloss. She waits around a little while, ready to go out when she gets the “Here” text. Instead, the doorbell rings. 

Blake goes downstairs. When she opens the door, Yang is bundled up in her coat, obscuring her outfit. However, her golden hair is splayed out around her shoulders, combed back from her forehead. She’s wearing makeup- something rare for her- and she is so beautiful Blake is breathless. 

“Earth to Blake,” Yang says, reaching out to take her hand. 

“Um, hey,” Blake replies, blushing. “You look really nice.”

“Thanks!” Yang’s voice is bubbly, yet Blake can hear a note of something strange. Blake calls out a goodbye to her parents before going out to the car. Yang is a few steps ahead of her, moving to open the back door for her. Blake gets in without complaint; it’s Ruby’s turn for the front seat anyway. 

Yang has happy party music on, which is nice, but Blake can sense a sort of tension from Yang and Ruby. They’re so quiet, it’s strange. Nora lives on the other side of town, so it takes a while for them to get there. It’s a fun drive though, as the car is nice and warm and Blake likes to hear Yang singing softly along to the music. When they get there, Yang has to park down the street, as there are plenty of cars. The three of them walk to her house. Yang slips her hand into Blake’s without looking at her, bringing a smile to Blake’s face. 

Nora starts yelling in excitement when she opens the door for them. Yang laughs, replying in a similar excitement but lower volume, while Ruby and Blake scoot by to get inside out of the cold. Ruby heads straight for the cookies; Blake hangs around by the door to wait for Yang. She nods at Ren, smiles at Pyrrha and Jaune, waves at Weiss. It’s quite a party, with the usual eight who sit together, Sun and Neptune, as well as Coco and Velvet who were able to make it too. 

Sun, standing in the area between the living room and the kitchen with a mug of cocoa, calls her over with a grin. He speaks in a low tone yet Blake wants to smack his arm anyway. “Have you talked to her yet?”

“No,” she hisses, glancing over her shoulder. “And it’s none of your business.”

He makes a face at her. “Sure, you’re just the one who keeps talking to me about it.”

Her irritation dissolves. “I’m sorry, that was mean,” she says, gazing down at her feet. “I just… don’t know what to do.”

He puts a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. Let’s get you some cocoa. We’re here to have fun!” Blake raises her head to smile at him. Before they go deeper into the kitchen, she looks back into the living room, searching for Yang. Strangely, she and Ruby are standing in the corner, away from everyone. Ruby’s back is to her yet Blake can see the stress in her gestures and posture. She catches Yang’s eye, mouthing “Everything okay?” Yang’s reply is the most strained attempt at a smile Blake’s ever seen and a shrug.

Sun pulls her into the kitchen, distracting her. Even so, the tension between the sisters weighs in the back of Blake’s mind. She does her best to have fun, drinking cocoa and eating popcorn and goodies. The group eventually all sits down to play board games, Blake finding her way to sit next to Yang, who, despite her best efforts to downplay it, is still upset. She presses close to Yang in an attempt to comfort her without words, not knowing the source of her distress, wanting to help anyway. 

Blake isn’t sure if anyone but Ruby can tell Yang isn’t as happy as she’s trying to be. Sure, she’s smiling. Sure, she’s laughing. There is genuine feeling to it, of course, but the smile is false, the laugh is hollow. Her competitive spirit is dulled; she’s making weak jokes. Blake spends the game stealing glances at Yang’s face, trying to figure out what the problem could be. 

After Ruby is victorious, Nora pulls Yang away to arm wrestle in the kitchen. Blake stays in the living room as the only one paying attention to the Christmas movie playing in the background. She watches quietly, enjoying the sappy silly story about two lonely people falling in love. When Ren sits down with her, neither of them talk. They watch in silence, until a crash comes from the kitchen. Blake and Ren make eye contact, the same amused but concerned looks on their faces. Ren goes to see what’s happening, while Blake stays to the end of the movie. 

She’s alone in a room full of people, she knows, but it’s not lonely. Coco and Velvet are sitting together in a chair talking quietly with twin expressions of love and happiness. Ruby, Weiss, Pyrrha, Jaune, are all discussing the finer points of board games. Sun and Neptune are wherever Nora and Ren are, probably in the kitchen. Yang is standing alone, gaze distant and unfocused. It hurts Blake’s heart to not know what’s going on. She gets up, setting her mug on the coffee table, and goes to her.

“Hey,” she whispers, sidling up to her. Yang moves her arm, creating a space for her. Blake slides into it, immediately feeling safe at Yang’s side, back to the wall.

“What’s up? Are you having fun?” Blake shrugs. “Do you want to go home?” She looks up. Lilac eyes look back, trained on her face. While Yang is sincere in her concern for Blake, she knows Yang is worrying about her to hide her own mood.

“Can I talk to you? Somewhere quiet?”

Yang’s brow creases, but she nods and downs her soda. Her hand finds Blake’s. She leads her through the crowd and Blake follows closely. They go into the one open door, finding it to be a laundry room. Yang closes the door behind them to lean against it.

“Is everything alright, Blake?” Yang’s calm demeanor is unsettling; Blake  _ knows _ she’s upset.

“Something’s bothering you. What is it?” Yang’s jaw clenches. Her gaze falls to the floor. “Come on,” Blake pleads. “Just tell me what you’re thinking.”

“It’s nothing,” she says, a dejected tone in her voice.

“No, that means there is something. Please, Yang.”

“I don’t think I can talk to you about it.”

Hurt washes over her. She swallows it down to press on. “Why not?” Yang closes her eyes, knuckles turning white as she grips the doorknob. There’s a painful silence, Blake staring at her, unable to resist looking at every little detail of her face. When the quiet becomes too much, she gives up, letting the hurt blossom in her chest and replace the determination.  “Fine-”

“Can I ask you a question?” Though they had spoken at the same time, Blake defers to Yang. She nods, making eye contact. Yang’s voice is low. “What are we doing?”

“We’re standing in a laundry room,” she says, a confused note in her voice; Yang sighs in frustration.

“No shit. Blake, I mean- what are we doing together? Are we dating? Are we friends? Are we  _ nothing _ ?” Her voice trembles on the last word.

“I assume we’re something,” Blake replies, speaking slowly. 

“Can you not play games with me right now?” Their eyes meet. Blake fights the urge to give non-answers.

“I mean it. We are something,” she says, golden gaze steady on Yang.

Her frustration has built. “Then can you please define that  _ something _ ?” 

“It’s whatever you want, Yang.” Her voice is soft.

In contrast, Yang’s tone is sharp. “It doesn’t work like that!”

“Tell me why you’re upset.”

Yang lets out a breath, coaxed into revealing her feelings. However, the answer she gives is cryptic. “It’s just… I need to know what I mean to you. Because I know what you mean to me.”

“What do I mean to you?” She realizes as she asks that she may already know.

“Fuck, Blake! I’m in love with you! Isn’t it obvious?” One of Yang’s hands presses into her hair, twisting the strands at the roots, while the other remains fixed on the doorknob.

Knowing it is one thing, hearing it is another. “Oh.” Her voice is small; her chest is tight. 

“See? I shouldn’t have even told you.” Yang sighs, dropping her hand from her hair to her side. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s go.”

Something inside of her twists and breaks. 

“No,” Blake says. It gets Yang’s attention. Before she can ask, Blake steps forward, looking up at her. She tugs at her wrist; Yang allows Blake to pull her hand into hers. “I’m glad you told me,” she murmurs.

“Blake,” Yang starts. “Don’t do this if you don’t mean it,” she whispers, a sort of begging in her tone that breaks her heart. Her lilac eyes are open and honest and genuine and oh God, Blake promised herself this would never happen again but it seems as if it’s too late now. Their 

lips meet. Blake drops her hand to tangle her fingers in Yang’s hair, pulling her closer to kiss her deeply and thoroughly and  _ lovingly _ . Yang sighs, hands curling into the fabric of Blake’s sweater.

They kiss. Everything seems so absolutely right and perfect that Yang’s heart hurts. When they part, Yang opens her mouth to say something, anything, but Blake beats her to it.

“I do mean it,” she murmurs. It takes Yang a moment to understand what she’s referencing. She nods, slowly. Blake searches for the right words. “Yang…”

Nora bursts in, knocking Yang into Blake. “ _ There  _ you guys are! Come on, it's almost midnight.” As quickly as she comes in, she goes out. 

Yang and Blake stare at each other for a moment before shyly smiling and leaving the laundry room. Yang reaches to hold her hand, not letting go even when they reach the living room and rejoin the group. It's warm in Blake's; Yang strokes her thumb across the back of her hand, a comforting touch that Blake loves. The ball drop is playing on the TV, the seconds counting down. Blake presses herself to Yang’s side as the room gets loud, Yang dropping her hand to settle an arm on her shoulder in response. They watch quietly. When the countdown hits ten seconds, Blake turns to her.

“Well?” she asks, a soft, hesitant tone in her voice that melts Yang’s heart. Yang moves to touch her face, a gentle brush of her fingertips against her jaw to tip her head up. They look at each other for a moment, Yang afraid to do what she wants to. Blake does it for her, leaning up ever so slightly to press their lips together. 

It’s like everyone else in the room disappears and the two of them are the only ones there anymore. Yang’s lips are soft against her own, the usual citrus scent of her hair comforting. Her touch brushes over Blake’s cheek and into her hair, drawing her closer.

“Get a  _ room _ !” someone yells. The moment is over. Yang steps back; Blake’s hands, reluctant to leave her waist, drop slowly. Blake, blush apparent on her cheeks, folds her fingers awkwardly together. Yang searches for something to say.

Nora rushes by, screeching something about her neighbors’ fireworks. Yang smiles and tugs at Blake’s hand. Blake follows her outside with no arguments, only shivering when they hit the freezing air. Yang lets go of her hand to wrap an arm around her shoulders, sharing her heat. 

Fireworks begin to shoot up into the sky. They’re mostly red and gold, giant bursts of color against the dark night. Some purple sneaks in, more subdued in comparison to the burning gold. Blake looks at Yang to see her absorbed in watching the fireworks, her eyes following the streaks of light. Every time one goes off, the color flashes against her pale skin. She turns, face bright with excitement, only to find Blake already looking at her. The smile that then spreads across her face is probably the most beautiful thing Blake’s ever seen. When Yang kisses her, the night smells like snow; her heart fills with hope.

**Author's Note:**

> The last line is actually really significant, you guys will see hopefully soon!


End file.
